Page 108 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
She smiled. He’d always pricked her temper, sharpened her tongue. She wished she had been the lady who lived in his residence, but one couldn’t change one’s stripes.
On the other hand, maybe one could.
Chapter 25
“Bloody hell, I can’t believe the line of people standing out there waiting for you to open the doors,” Andrew said, staring out the window of Drake’s office at the Twin Dragons.
Its inauguration tonight was the talk of London, not only among the aristocracy but among the wealthy who bore no titles. Entry into the Twin Dragons was by invitation only, each one hand-delivered to the elite, those who could afford membership. The aristocracy. The newly rich. Railway barons. Manufacturing barons. Those who dared to reach for something better. Americans. And the ladies. Ladies were being allowed into what had once been the men’s inner sanctum. And that was causing quite the stir.
Leaning back in the chair behind his desk, Drake dared not browse the expectant crowd, because he knew if he did, he would search for her, and he didn’t want to experience the disappointment that she hadn’t come.
It had been six weeks since Wigmore had been put in the ground. Grace had informed him that Phee was again attending balls and dinners, concerts and theater. She was being wooed and courted. Any day now he expected to read about her betrothal in theTimes.
From her he had received but one missive, which said simply, “No child.”
He should have been relieved. Instead he’d felt his last opportunity to regain her in his life melt away. Not that the circumstances would have been ideal. But it might have been a chance for them to start over. It might have—
“I can’t believe how different the place looks,” Rexton said.
Drake’s brothers had arrived early, intent on sharing the reopening of the Twin Dragons with him. They held no resentment, no grudges that the duchess had handed him her portion without recompense. He was touched by their loyalty, their goodwill toward him. They embraced his good fortune as though it were their own.
“I wanted ladies to feel welcome here,” Drake said. “It was too dark before.”
He’d done much of the work himself, hammering, painting, papering, rearranging. The more punishing the task, the more likely he was the one to do it. Anything to make his muscles scream and ache, anything that resulted in exhaustion, so that when he finally went to bed he could sleep without dreams, without thinking of Phee.
Not that his plan garnered him much success where she was concerned. She always hovered at the edge of his consciousness and he could do little to eradicate her from his mind. It didn’t help that as he oversaw the arrival of new furnishings and their placement that he envisioned her handling the delivery of furniture at his residence. A residence that was now too blasted empty, the only sound his hollow footsteps. He could smell her on his pillow, his sheets, and his desire for her would only sharpen.
“I’m not sure how I feel about playing against women, taking their money. Not very gentlemanly,” Rexton said.
“Never bothered you to take Grace’s money.”
“He could never beat Grace,” Andrew said. “I could, though.”
“Because you cheat,” Rexton announced.
“So does she. Did you never figure that out?”
“I wouldn’t expect my sister to be so underhanded.” Rexton lifted the glass dragon from its perch on Drake’s desk and examined it.
“Careful with that,” Drake said. Rexton arched a brow at him. “I don’t want it broken.”
“Pity it’s already broken. Part of its tail is missing.”
Not missing exactly. Rather it was nestled within a small pocket in Drake’s waistcoat, so it was always with him, so he always carried a reminder of Phee.
Carefully, Rexton returned it to its place. “It’s an exquisite piece. I can’t imagine Jack Dodger having such whimsical objects in his office.”
“But then it’s not his office,” Drake said with a smile. It hadn’t been in some time, but tonight it truly felt like Drake’s. Perhaps he was going to be able to generate some excitement after all.
“I assume he’s coming tonight?” Andrew asked.
“He and Claybourne, along with their families, should be here anytime now.” He’d given them a private tour the day before. They’d been impressed with the alterations. While most of the main floor would cater to both genders, he’d added private salons for each. A rather fancy dining hall created a pleasant atmosphere for a gent to bring a lady for dinner. Another room would offer dancing. He was expanding beyond vice.
A soft knock sounded.
Drake peered over at the doorway and saw the duke standing there. He quickly came to his feet. “Your Grace.”
Greystone held up a bottle. “Anyone care for some good scotch before the masses are allowed inside?”
